by GMS75Florida, USA
Apr 2013 375 Views 0 comments
The Leaving Time
" The Leaving Time"
Through the tangled branches,
I see the hues of scottish tartan hills...
the hints of sunlit fingers reach
this dark forest floor,
stroking my cold body,
warming me now -
deliberate and steadfast.....
the darkness becomes less so.
i am leaving this place ,
where i hid from myself...and from you.
walking, but not running,
glancing back....
(but only once)
I leave.
(Gregory)
Through the tangled branches,
I see the hues of scottish tartan hills...
the hints of sunlit fingers reach
this dark forest floor,
stroking my cold body,
warming me now -
deliberate and steadfast.....
the darkness becomes less so.
i am leaving this place ,
where i hid from myself...and from you.
walking, but not running,
glancing back....
(but only once)
I leave.
(Gregory)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
Near death, rebirth, standing upPoems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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